Timeline
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Somewhere between working out and talking about dirty massages, Stephanie and Paul fall for one another and never really stop. - One-shot.


From the very beginning, Stephanie felt a strong attraction to Paul. She knew, of course, that it was wrong at times and, even when it wasn't any more, still felt it rather scandalous.

It was just something...internally. From the way that he carried himself to his physical prowess and just his overall apathy that he projected out onto others. There was something so...unbelievably hot about that.

Steph didn't know how to explain it to someone who had never felt that way about another person. She doubted at times if Paul even understood it, when she tried so hard to describe it. She was nearly certain that he hadn't felt that way about her, at first glance, not the way she'd felt about him. Which was fine, of course, but still led him to a different kind of love than what she was felt towards him.

Hers wasn't immediate, but the deep attraction was. And it only grew as time went on and, due to their on screen appearances together, she quickly found the most attractive thing of all.

Watching him workout.

The only reason that she ever began to see this was because he offered to let her tag along, once or twice, typically under the guise of how she should try to bulk up too.

"It'll only do you good, around here," he sneered more than once. "Course, ain't like you don't already have a pretty good in, eh, princess?"

Paul liked to show off. That was something she'd kind of had an inkling about, but was a little annoyed at times by it. He was almost like a little boy.

"Hey, Steph, come spot me."

"Hey, Steph, you see how much I'm lifting?"

"Hey, Steph, you think you could count my reps for me?"

It was never ending. And, through blushes and glances away, she typically agreed.

Their first kiss actually came one day after she went to workout with him, when he was dropping her off back at the motel she was staying in for the week (he seemed to know a gym in every city they stopped in that, as he put it, was simply the best; although she had a slight inkling he was just putting on for her and pretending to have such knowledge). He'd rented a car for the week, as they were in a pretty popular city and he no doubt was going out most nights. He did that sometimes, she recalled, instead of going home in the off days.

They were just sitting there, in the parking lot of the motel, talking. He had a CD playing some of that hardcore music he enjoyed so much and Steph was trying to pretend to enjoy just as much, but neither were listening to it in that moment. Rather, he was listening to her probably talk a bit too much, as she felt like she did with him, when she was nervous.

Back then, being alone with him almost always made her nervous.

He was nodding his head in all the right places, like he knew to, but was mostly just beating his thumbs on the steering wheel along with the beat of the song. Steph knew he was waiting for her to get out, probably, but was being too courteous to say so. At the same time, however, she had nothing else to do for the rest of day and kind of sort of wanted to just stick around him for as long as possible.

But when she ran out of things to talk about and was finally getting ready to tell him goodbye, Paul started talking.

He was bitching, just a bit, about how his right shoulder had been bothering him. She listened intently, in that doe-eyed way she had, as if he were telling her the most enrapturing story of all time.

Paul ate it up. He never told her this, back then, but he would later. When they'd been together for awhile. That back then, he used to get off on her looks and almost felt as if she were putting on for him, laying it on extra thick just how into him she was.

Which she wasn't. And he'd tell her he knew that, when they discussed it later. Mainly because she still did it.

And she did. She always would. There was just something about Paul that completely captivated her. Her older brother, Shane, would compare it, only half-joking at times, to the way a cult leader can trick the weak minded into selling their land and giving up their lives to him.

Steph would carp, of course, whenever he made such a crack, but at the same time, couldn't outright deny the feeling. Paul had a hold over her. Not a dark or manipulative one. Just a hold. Especially back then.

And as they sat in that rented car that afternoon, it was in full effect.

"See, right here," he said as he leaned over the center console, pointing with his other hand to a spot in his shoulder, as if to show it off to her. He hadn't put back on his leather jacket when they left the gym, so he only rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to show it off to her. "You see?"

Nodding, she said, "Maybe you should talk to the trainer about-"

"Nah. Ain't nothin' like that." He was still leaning towards her. "Just tight." Then he rolled his shoulder around. "That's all."

Rather tentative, Steph reached out slowly to rest her own hand on the spot he pointed out. "Right here?"

With a nod, he said, "Right there."

"You should, like, get a massage or something."

"Nah. You know, I walk into one of those places and the women, they can't contain themselves, you know. Just lining up to give me free happy endings."

"Is that right?" Steph asked with a roll of her eyes as she dropped her hand. He had that shit eating grin then as he nodded.

"You should see it! Like I'm being set up for a sting or something. I can just see it, the headline. _Triple H Caught Getting Dirty Massages_. Madness."

"My father would love that," she told him as he slowly dropped his arm.

"You think so?"

"It would just go so well into the storyline," she told him with a giggle. "Not only does he drug women to get them to marry him-"

"It was never explicitly said _I_ drugged you."

"-but he also has to pay them for sex."

"Hey." He gave her a real intense look them. "I paid them for a good rubbin'. The sex was all on them."

"Uh-huh."

"It's just a thing. Women see me and they can't contain themselves. What am I supposed to do? Huh? Break character? And not give them what they want? Sounds awfully rude to me."

"Awfully," she agreed with a slight grin.

Shrugging his shoulders a bit then, Paul went back to facing forwards. "But for real though-"

"You mean you weren't telling the truth just then? I'm surprised."

"-I'm a little low on cash right now."

"Not you."

"Yes me."

"If this is a lead in to me loaning you money-"

"Of course not." That got a grin from him. "A man asking his wife for money? If I wanted money from ya, Steph, I'd just take it."

"Is that right?"

Shaking his head a bit, he said truthfully then, "I'd never ask for cash from you. You know that."

"I know."

"I know how you McMahons are, anyhow," came a slight grumble. "About your money."

"We do enjoy keeping it just that; ours."

As the CD came to an end and began from the beginning again, Paul relaxed back into the chair and glanced over at her once more.

"I guess," he said slowly as she only stared, "you better go."

"I guess so."

"If you wanna," he enticed then, "I'mma be working out again tomorrow morning. Super early. Before I have to catch a flight. Around six in the morning until about eight. If you want me to pick you up-"

"Should you though? With your shoulder?"

"That's how you get rid of pain, Steph. You push through it."

"Is it though?"

"It is when you wanna be the best wrestler in the business."

"Mmmm...I actually rest when I'm injured, thanks."

"Ha." He said the word, instead of laughing, but did smile at her, purely. "You are right though. When I think best wrestler of all time, I definitely thing Stephanie McMahon."

"Well, all time is a bit much. Just currently would work for me."

That got a shake of the head from him and she grinned along with the man, knowing she should get out then, as they were ending on a high note. Telling either yes or no, about the next morning, and leave it at that.

Just as she was forming the confirmation in her mind, however, he turned his head completely towards her and she was already leaning over to tell him yes and they just…

He bowed his head, after they broke apart, resting a hand on her cheek, staring down into her blue eyes.

"Why'd you have to go and do that? Huh?"

"M-Me?" She frowned, but didn't pull away in the slightest. "You're the one-"

"You kissed me, Steph."

"I did not."

"Oh." He paused. Then he winked. "Did you wanna?"

"I think you made the decision for me."

Laughing deeply, he stroked her cheek then as they sat there, facing one another, foreheads pressed together, staring at one another.

"I still think you kissed me."

"Well, I didn't."

"It's okay if you did, you know." His breath was warm against her face and Steph knew she should back away then. Be the one to stop things. Because, maybe, she did realize it had been her that actually leaned in first. Kissed him. Therefore it was her job to put an end to it.

Wasn't it?

"Because," Paul added as her hand came to rest on the forearm of the hand he was resting on her cheek, "I've been wanting to do that for, oh, months."

"Right. And you just did it right then."

"Sure, Steph. I kissed you. After being able to contain myself for months, something just overcame me today-"

"Oh, and it did me? I just suddenly gave into months of not-"

"So you have been pining after me for months." He let out a slight sigh. "You little minx."

"Minx?" She frowned then. "You're the one that, like, got me in here and started talking about sex and-"

"You touched my arm all suggestively-"

"You asked me to."

"No." His thumb stilled against her cheek. "I showed you where I was hurting and you touched me."

"That's not what-"

"That's exactly what happened, Stephanie." His eyebrows raised. "Was it not?"

Glancing off, she only mumbled, "You tricked me."

"Never."

"Feels like it."

"Trapped you maybe-"

"Paul-"

"Mmmm. Fine." When her eyes found his again, the man asked, "Stephanie? To avoid any confusion this time, can I kiss you?"

No. Right? Wasn't that the right answer?

But her throat felt tight and, slowly, she nodded yes and, with a grin, he leaned forwards once more to do just that.

He'd showered up at the gym, which was the only thing that saved her hands from getting fists full of gel as she ran her fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure if she'd like that.

It felt different too, from when they kissed on TV. From when they were playing a part. Because those kisses, even the ones that weren't chaste at all, felt twinged with an awkward feeling. After all, they were in front of thousands of people. Millions.

In that car, in front of that motel, they were alone. Or at least it felt that way. It was more...dirt twinged in. Dirtiness, rather. The risk of getting caught. It was an entirely different kind of thrill. A new high.

"God, Steph," he mumbled at one point as they broke apart, though one of her hands stayed on the back of his neck. "I should tell you about my sore shoulders more often."

"Will you talk about your dirty massages?"

" _Allegedly_ dirty." Then he grinned, showing off his teeth. "And if that got you hot, babe, damn straight I will."

There was finally a last time, of course, when they broke apart and Steph shifted away from him while he only ran a hand through his own hair, lookin everywhere, but at her.

"I should… I'm sharing a room with someone," she said quickly for some reason. He knew what reason, of course, and managed to look her in the eyes again.

"What are you suggestin', huh? Steph?"

"W-Well-"

"You take me the kinda man to sleep with women before I even take them out to dinner first?"

When she only stared and he only stared just as heavily back, she eventually asked, "Well, don't you?"

Laughing though it didn't sound so sincere, he only said then, "You better go, Steph."

"Paul-"

"We stay out here much longer, someone's gonna see. If someone hasn't already."

That got a nod from her. Because he was right.

"I'll see you though," he told her as, slowly, she grabbed her gym bag from the floor and started to open the door. "I guess at that meeting in-"

"Tomorrow, right? Morning? At six?"

Glancing at her, he stared at her face hard for a long moment before nodding. "Only if you wanna."

"Well, someone has to make sure you don't blow that shoulder out," she joked a bit weakly as, with one hand, she reached up to smooth down her hair. "And I think it'd only be right that the best wrestler in the world ever-"

"Currently, we decided."

"-should be the one to do it."

"Six then." He let out a slight breath. "Sharp, Steph."

"Sharp," she agreed, finally making it out of the car. More than a little weak in the knees, she only gave him a really dorky wave that she hated immediately after she did it (she saw Paul as a mature man, after all, and herself as far less mature woman that still didn't know what she wanted). "Paul."

After she shut the door, he didn't even wait for her to disappear. Just cranked his car up as he did with his stereo before roaring off, out of the parking lot.

There was hardly anything else she could think of until six that next morning. Just him and her and the fact that they'd...really done nothing. Just kissed. Heavily. Made out. That's all.

Was that even really anything bad? Honestly?

She convinced herself it wasn't. And, when he pulled up six on the dot, she was dressed for the gym.

You know, the one they never got to.

Instead they listened to that same damn CD as they shifted to the backseat of the car and...really didn't do much. Again, Paul seemed hesitant to cross that line (and she definitely wasn't hooking up in the parking lot of a motel and risk getting caught in the most embarrassing position ever), but did rather enjoy what they did do.

It was probably because they both felt like teenagers again, sneaking out after hours, stealing post-curfew kisses in the parking lot of a vacant building, willing the other to be the first to do something explicit.

Paul hadn't felt that way in a long time. Immature. That's the main feeling he had about the whole thing. That they were acting like immature, rebellious children.

And _God_ was it hot.

The first time they truly hooked up was about two weeks later. He'd just gotten a new apartment, after his breakup not a three months earlier, and it wasn't far from where the show would be taking place that week.

He felt electric, as they sat down on his new couch and he explained to Stephanie, in that overly cheesy voice, that she was kinda his first, considering he hadn't fucked a woman there before.

And wasn't that something?

No. She told him that in the flattest way she could though the eyes she was making at him, all alight and that just as electric blue as he felt, more than gave her away.

It wouldn't matter if he'd told her he'd fucked a woman there just the night before, if he was planning to the second she left; just being alone with him, in that moment, getting that attention from him that she craved so much, made her feel special.

Paul didn't drink. He didn't like it. So as they sat around his apartment, he never offered to get her a beer, he didn't have one, but he went ahead and told her he'd have a cheat day and split a soda with her.

Which Steph thought was silly and cute, but he was always silly and cute to her. Always.

She drank most of it though as they skated around the real reason she'd been invited over. You know, the part about her being the first woman he was going to fuck int the apartment.

And yes, he kept using the word fuck for some reason. It was almost as if he thought it was less harsh as the word sex or something.

He was turning it into a joke though and slowly began using the word in every single sentence. And Stephanie giggled into her coke while he kept the straightest face he could, but a smirk broke through once or twice.

They never ran out of things to talk about that night. They never would, even years later, but eventually they just grew tired of talking and the soda was kinda done so, as Paul put it, they should finally fuck.

Which caused Steph to snort the last sip of the drink she was taking right up her nose, which was completely embarrassing and hilarious to Paul. He followed her as she rushed off to his bathroom to clean off.

"Damn, Stephanie," he remarked as she only blushed and turned away from him. "I haven't seen someone do that in a long time."

"Shut up," she complained, not even giving him a glance. Paul only laughed before moving to take the toilet paper she was using to wipe off with and tossing it up on the sink. Then he grabbed the washcloth that was resting there and rubbed at her face himself.

Her blush was in full force then, but Paul did this in silence. Eventually, he asked, "Good?" And when she nodded, he tossed the washcloth back in its place before asking, "How good?"

"I dunno..."

"We don't have to, you know, fuck."

"Would you stop saying-"

"What? Fuck?" He grinned. "I like that word."

"I can tell."

"I like you too."

Blinking up at him, she nodded. "I know."

"Good." He wrapped an arm around her. "So good."

Paul had far more experience than her in many ways. Not that Steph hadn't slept with a man before, because she definitely had. She just hadn't...been so completely and utterly enamored with a man the way she was her on-screen husband.

It made her nervous, being with him. More so that it ever had, save, maybe, her first. Just knowing that Paul felt, at least somewhat, what she did for him made Stephanie lightheaded.

Not that the secrecy didn't add to things. Because it did. Even more so then, as they weren't just fooling around like schoolchildren. Paul felt it too, she could tell, that hesitance to go that final step. Because, no matter what happened that night or after, they'd loosened the lid on a can of worms that was going to explode eventually.

But damn, he wanted her. Badly. It had been awhile since he'd done something so fun and risky and just…

So fucking what? If she was Vince's damn daughter? If he didn't want her around grown men, he should have kept her locked up at home. Hell, she was grown herself! And she wanted him just as much, if not more (definitely more).

What business was it of his? Huh?

None, maybe. But it would be. And they both knew it. Because no matter how they felt in that moment, they both had the same lingering thought in the back of their mind; what exactly happened when they were finished with one another?

When he was inevitably done with her? Steph thought that had to be soon. She wasn't an idiot. Paul was… He could have any woman on the roster. On the planet. The hell did he want with her for very long?

So she soaked it up. And tried not to sound too unsure of herself. It wasn't like they did anything...exotic. Just…

Ugh.

And after he laid with his face in the pillow beside her, mumbling something or other about the radio. When she realized what he wanted, she glanced down on the floor on her side of the bed to find that there was a clock radio sitting there, on the ground, as he had no nightstand, it seemed.

Flicking it on for him, she slowly sat up as he only let out a soft sigh.

"I should-"

"Just lay down."

"Really, Paul, I-"

"I'll take you back to the hotel soon." He hadn't lifted his head from the pillow. "Can you ever just enjoy somethin', Steph?"

Oh, she'd enjoyed something. Not even necessarily that act itself. More just him in general.

"Can I take a shower?" she asked cautiously after ten minutes. He'd gotten up then, though it was only to clean off some himself. "Or are you going to be in there for long?"

Paul, from the bathroom, which was out in the hall, only called out, "Give me a sec and it's all yours."

She felt more embarrassed, being around him then, and slipped on her shirt and shorts before he came back into the room. He took notice of this, as he was still very much so nude, but didn't say anything as she scurried off to go wash off.

Honestly, Paul thought he'd be feeling more guilt. He wasn't. In that moment, anyways. He figured he that would come later.

Right before the anger. You know, when Vince McMahon kicked his ass out on the street and he had to go plead for one of the other circuits to pick him up.

Plead was a strong word, actually. Triple fucking H? Someone would take him.

...Hopefully…

He and Steph stopped on the way back to the motel to get some fast food. She noted that he hardly ate the sorry excuse of a salad that the place had and it made her feel a bit piggish, eating the burger she had.

"I'll see you tomorrow, huh?" he said when they finally made it back to the hotel. And she nodded a bit, not sure if she should kiss him goodbye or not.

Paul fixed this by doing it to her instead.

For the woman that had began the relationship, being the one (admittedly) that had kissed him first, Paul led them in most other situations. He decided when they could sneak off to have a date or when it was okay to hold hands and when they should steer clear of one another. When it was alright for them to make out backstage, just for the thrill of it, and when she should only interact to him if she had to.

She liked it that way. A lot. Then again, she liked Paul, a lot, and anything he did back then would have probably pleased her. She was that smitten.

Not always, of course. Because there was once, when they'd first started secretly seeing one another, when he'd made her feel like shit.

He was in one of his _moods_ that day where he just wanted to be left alone. She was pretty certain it was because Shawn, who, of course, was going through his own shit with his rehabilitation back then, had called and they'd gotten into it over something. The two were so close that if one was feeling down, it typically rubbed off on the other.

And he yelled at her. Pretty harshly too. They were supposed to be going out on a date that night, they had it all planned out, but when he told her he wasn't up for it and she (in her mind) quite politely (though he didn't remember it that way; rather, he recalled a lot of whining on her part) asked why not, leading to him snapping at her that she was such a self absorbed brat constantly (again, that was her version; he remembered telling her just to leave him the hell alone, but didn't recall calling her any names, at all; the truth probably fell in the middle) and damn, couldn't she actually make some friends of her own or something? Instead of constantly hounding him?

Which, regardless of which one of them was right or wrong, led to some pretty awkward times between them. Paul didn't want to go crawling on his knees back to her (which Steph wouldn't have liked either, so she had no idea where he'd have gotten the idea he needed to) while she refused to admit that she might have, maybe been a tad too bratty that day (because she wasn't and why would he feel as if she was, unless he had called her a brat, which would prove her right and him wrong because that was just an important distinction when you were in your twenties).

It was during this time that Paul later told Steph, once they were married, that he actually went to Taker for some advice.

Which was flooring to her, when he admitted this, as that was the one man that she would have died to know knew about them. She knew how close Mark and her father were and was surprised that the man hadn't gone straight to Vince with that.

But Paul gave her a flick in the head when she said that and explained that they were wrestlers, brothers; unlike women, as he put it, that shit meant something.

It was only when Mark told him that if he truly felt something for her, then what the others thought about it meant absolutely nothing, that he went about mending things.

Not that it was hard. Steph had kind of deflated a bit, out of her anger, and was mostly back to praying that there was some interest in him for her. Still some, rather.

A few cute glances, mumbles of apology, and bam; she was putty again.

There was something about them making up that, for some reason, made them both feel invincible. Sloppy too. They got too comfortable with the idea of their relationship, it seemed, and began to do ill-advised things.

Like getting caught making out in the parking lot of the venue RAW was held that the week.

Or holding hands backstage when they should have known others were around.

Oh, and the her sleeping over with him in hotel rooms things.

That was pretty much when they'd resounded to getting caught, if not downright wanted Vince to find out and confront them already.

You know, before the novelty wore off.

And he was livid too. So was Shane, but he was mostly a non-factor to Paul. Rather, it was Vince that he was most fearful of.

You know, since he kind controlled his _paycheck_ and shit.

Stephanie, however, was defiant.

But, once more, Paul needed guidance.

And Taker was more than ready to hand it out once more.

You either want to be with someone or you don't; everything else was a rather moot point.

All of that was compiled with the fact that Paul tore a quad for the first time not soon after.

Which should have ended things without Vince's doing. Because Paul would be away from the arenas and, therefore, out of sight while there were so many others perfectly in it. And he should have felt the same about Steph. Put his focus, instead, into rehabilitation. And drowning his anger over it in tons of hot women.

But Steph was loyal as fuck. That's what he told her all the time, when she'd show up with groceries or called with words of encouragement. She had her own life going on and no real obligation to him. He also made that clear.

She didn't care though. Because to her it'd never just been a fling. The forbidden fruit tasting the sweetest. She thought it would be that way to him, mentally begun to prepare herself for such a revelation, but her feelings for him,were real.

And he damn sure took notice of that.

Not that his life was a cakewalk, she knew. He had good days and bad ones. He wasn't happy about getting taken out of action, just like anyone else, and would frequently grumble about just this.

Sometimes, this frustration would get taken out on her. And there were days where she'd flown in just to see him and was not going to put up with it.

So she'd snap back at him at times. And explain, in rather brisk fashion, that she cared a lot about him, but she wasn't some little girl; she was just a grown as him. He couldn't boss her around.

Not unless she wanted him to.

That didn't happen very often though. A lot of their interactions, rather, were pretty positive. She'd call him a lot, from whatever place she was staying, and they'd sit up most of the night, flipping through channels on the television together, in completely different states, mentally and physically, and just talk.

Well, she talked. He listened mostly. But that was okay, Steph felt, because all he had to speak about in those months was how shit his life was going. She, on the other hand, had a lot going on and a lot to relay.

It was during one of those telephone calls that it happened.

She was getting tired and had long curled up in bed, phone pressed to her ear as they listened to one another breath softly more than spoke any words.

"You should go to bed," he told her softly. "I can tell you're tired."

"How?"

"Because I'm tired."

That got a sleepy giggle. "Yeah. Me too."

"God, Steph," he breathed about then, rather audibly. "I can't wait for you to get down here again."

"Me neither." Letting out her own breath, she whispered, "I love you."

And that was an accident. Honest. She was just sleep deprived and delirious and...and...completely awake when her confession was met with silence.

Just as she was about to get out a quick revision of her statement, she heard him reply, "Yeah. I love you too, princess."

Which didn't help her relax any. At all. And after he hung up not a minute later, she laid awake for the majority of the night, wondering just what that meant.

Apparently that the word was in play then.

Not that they said it often. Even as time went on they wouldn't. Every phone conversation wasn't ended with it and rarely was it their standard goodbye.

It meant something to them. He'd whisper it in her ear when she was having a hard time at work and she'd mumble it into his chest on those nights when one of their newborns would keep them up _all night_ with no reprieve. When her father was being unbearable, when she felt like she was the unbearable one.

Things felt more...real to them that way.

Not that it didn't make things shitty for Paul when he came back from his injury. Real shitty at times, between him and some of the others in the locker room. Not that many would say anything to his face. After all, banging a McMahon or not, he was still rather respected in most regards.

Just...a little less in others.

Steph held no shame, however, as she rarely did in anything she was involved in. Especially during that first Elimination Chamber match, in which she was by his side the second she could be after the match. RVD had done a number on his neck and, though there was no ill-will there, it still was a rather serious situation.

"You're the only man I know," she griped to him when he grumbled about having to stay overnight under observation, "that would think this isn't something serious."

Oh, he thought it was serious. He just hated watching people fret over him. Especially her. Not to mention his parents.

And even though everyone else were impressed by his strength and resilience to commit to finishing the match when something like that happened, Stephanie thought that it was the worst thing in the world and would hound him on that too (later, of course, when he wasn't in the hospital) as she had done with his quad tear.

Man did he get it too when, against the doctor's orders, he left for India the next day, to do the venue they had booked there. Steph was pissed at him and pissed at her father for not forcing him to stay (though honestly, Vince was one of the ones that admired his strength over it).

"You could have died, Paul."

"I know." He patted her on the head too, as they were on that plane, not even twenty-four hours after his release from the hospital. "But I didn't."

"Yeah, but-"

"You grew up in this sport, babe." She got a look. "You know how it is. This is my job; unless I'm bleeding out, I'm finishin' my work. And even then it had better be life or death that moment."

Oh, she knew. Because her man was old school. That was the environment they worked in. How they garnished respect. And she did respect those sorts of things.

When it wasn't her boyfriend.

That night only confirmed something to Paul though, the same thing that his quad injury had; Steph was ride or die. She was by his side no matter what. And even though it made her tear up to think about him putting his job on the line just to be with her, it made his chest swell to think of the commitment that she displayed to him, day in and day out.

And damn if she didn't think they could have a better time than they did the following Christmas, a few months later. Smackdown taped on Christmas Eve, leaving the next day to them. Which instead of spending with her family or his, like they probably should have, was spent holed up in some motel, Paul even breaking the strict diet regiment he'd been on since his '01 injury (he felt as if he'd come back pudgier and still didn't feel quite comfortable with his look, regardless of Steph's insistence otherwise) to eat some of the greasiest takeout food they could find that night, given their few options, being it Christmas Day and all. She'd bought a cake, from a bakery, the day before and he even had a piece of that with her, getting her to giggle when he licked her fingers clean of the frosting left there.

When they called their families much later in the day and Steph told her mother all about the beautiful necklace Paul had presented her with, as he beamed and snuggled up real close to her, just listening, she felt like there was nothing else he could give her. No holiday that could ever top that.

You know, until the following Valentine's Day.

Because she wasn't expecting it. At all. The proposal. She truly thought that Paul would never do something like that. Be so flashy about it. Or maybe even ever do it to begin with.

Truth be told, neither did he.

But Steph brought something out of him. He loved her. Deeply. And knew she'd get off on that so, damn it, that's what he did.

It was just part of being the best damn boyfr- ah, _fiance_ he possibly could be.

Stephanie hated every single damn time she had to take off that ring to, well, step into _the_ ring.

And as much as she loved it, the time had finally come for her to duck out of the story line on WWE for a bit.

Not that she was in love with the idea of just how she was going to be written off. Then again, none of the rest of her family was either.

Except for her father.

Considering the man would have a battle with God himself in three years (her father was a sucker for controversy), she figured that he honestly didn't understand what the problem was with the match.

You know, when you think about it, holding a lead pipe to your daughter's throat and forcing her to resign from the company was actually one of the milder McMahon disputes.

Paul hated the idea though. She figured that centered in mostly on the fact that it was happening the week of their wedding. For some reason, he didn't think that a black eye would be a flattering thing to look back on when they showed their future children their wedding photos.

Vince left it up to his daughter though who, for better or worse, had the same mind about business that he had; it came first.

It was nice, honestly, to work behind the scenes more. Steph had felt her storyline go stale quite some time ago and, honestly, was ready for a break. Mostly, however, she was glad to finally be able to enjoy being called Mrs. Levesque.

If Paul had been attractive to Steph while they were only dating, he was downright bewitching those first few months as her husband. They didn't get to spend every night together and, due to work restrictions, at times had to be in different places at different times.

That first year of marriage felt like the easiest in some ways and the worst in others. They got unlimited access to one another, sure, when they were together, but at the same time, a lot of their time just couldn't be spent together. Their work wasn't seasonal or even quarterly; it was year round. Just like their relationship.

Technology advances helped in those first few years. As texting took much of the place of emails in informal communication, Steph and Paul found themselves doing a lot of that. He grumbled at times, about the tiny buttons and how did she expect him to figure that shit out, but it got to the point at times where they hardly went an hour without texting one another something while the other was away.

Besides, it wasn't like they hadn't expected the time constraints to play a factor. They knew it would. And, because of it, the thing that originally drew them together quickly became a constant between them once more.

"Hey, Steph, you wanna meet up at a gym? When you're all done in the office?"

And what could she say to that other than yes?

Watching him workout turned her on as much as ever. Which he found hilarious, when she admitted to him.

"As if you didn't know," she said with a slight frown one night as they sat around the house. They'd spent the afternoon in the gym and were spending the night cooped up in the house, with only one another. "Why else would you invite me to go watch you work out all those times?"

"Oh, I knew. I just never thought you'd say it."

"I don't get abashed as easily as you," she said simply, holding her head up higher as she stared at the television which was on one of her godawful female centric comedies.

"Abashed, huh?" As she was resting against him with her feet up on the couch, he only threw an arm around her neck. "That's definitely one word for what you aren't."

"It means-"

"I know what it means. I'm just agreeing." Leaning down, he nuzzled his head against hers. "And I agree. You're very...unabashed in most situations."

"Paul, if you don't-"

"You never think I know anything. It means that you aren't embarrassed by stuff. I got it." He tightened his grip around her neck. "I'm not an idiot, Mrs. Levesque."

"I'd never dream of calling you one," she said, hands coming up to pat the arm around her neck, "I say with fear for my life."

"I'd never choke you out." Her head got a kiss. "Too obvious."

"What would be your method of choice then?"

"To kill you?"

"I'd nod, but you know, being choked over here."

He relaxed his grip a bit as she tilted her head back up to smile at him. Paul only stared rather solemnly down at her before shrugging.

"I'd be too afraid to do that."

"Of what? Losing out on the McMahon family fortune?"

"Considering I think we've all come to the conclusion Vince ain't ever gonna croak-"

"Too true."

"-I'm gonna go more with the fact that, babe, if you nag me in life, I couldn't imagine what you're ghost would be like."

"Oh, and yours would be so much better?" She made a face at him. "You'd probably, like, ruin every date after your death I had."

"You could date after me?"

She paused then, long enough for her to actually give it thought. Then, softly, she admitted, "I dunno."

"Maybe your dad'll take us to his Fountain of Youth."

"Doubt it. And if he had that, he'd have sold it by now."

"Or at least teased it."

That made Steph giggle as Paul only gave her one last kiss to the head before retrieving the remote.

"Hey-" she started up, but he only shook his head.

"I do not," he grumbled, "want to hear any more about which woman wants to date which man."

"That's not all this show is about."

"I don't want to hear about what douches men are either."

Slumping back against him, she said, "Fine. Change it."

But, as always, he only flipped through the channels once before, ignoring the fact he passed up tons of stuff he'd have enjoyed, he stopped on her show when they made it back around to it and just suffered in silence.

He was good at that.

That was another thing that turned her on so much. Just the way that he was willing to put up with shit for her. More than just her family because, seriously, they could be horrible, but he and her father typically got along pretty well.

Steph liked that she got to choose where they went on dates and that he deferred to her on major purchases. That, though he was definitely the one she looked to when she couldn't figure something out or make up her mind, he had no problem with relinquishing the reigns when she felt like she wanted them for a bit.

Which was such a flip from early on. Back when he was the head of nearly everything that they did and she just was along for the ride. Because even though she still looked at him with those wide eyes and pure adoration, something had changed.

Paul had learned that, sometimes, he liked to be domineered a bit. Steph was definitely a force in her own right and always had been. Sometimes it was just easier to let her take care of the household and him just go along for the ride.

This was never made as clear as when he had his second quad injury.

It couldn't have come at a worse time. Their daughter was still only a couple months old (she could hardly crawl yet) and things had been rather tense on their own, just adjusting to the baby in general.

Still, if he was thankful for the first quad tear because it helped solidify his love of Stephanie, he was glad for the second because, not only did it give him a chance to bond with his newborn, but it also reignited something between he and Steph.

Not that anything was lost. Things had just gotten rather...stagnant, in many ways. In the final months of her pregnancy and nearly immediately after, she'd been working and he was working and then there was the baby and that was enough stress.

Basically the second quad injury could have sunk them even lower if they'd allowed it. But they didn't. Because if Stephanie was loyal and faithful to a man she'd only just begun to date, she was downright devoted to her husband.

She took care of the finances, scheduling his doctor's appointments, and figuring out the babysitters for the baby when he was unable to watch her. Stephanie did it all with very few complaints and denial of any of it affecting her whenever he brought it up. Because that was his woman, the toughest one of the bunch.

And at his lowest, when he felt as if his progress wasn't going the way that he wanted, considered himself a failure and saw himself as never getting back into the ring again, it was always Steph that reminded him of just who he was.

"My husband," she said one night as they laid in bed, him having grumbled something or other to her about how weak he felt like he was getting, "is the same man that torn a quad muscle and still stayed in a fight. The same man that had his trachea crushed and was in India the next day because he had a show. And that wasn't afraid of the strongest man I'd known up to that point, my father, when he threatened his job if he didn't leave me." She gave him a quick kiss before staring him in the eyes. "If you decide to never wrestle again, it's not because you're not strong enough; it's because you chose not too. Because Paul Levesque is the strongest man I know. And believe me, honey, I know some powerful men."

Which shouldn't have made him feel so good. She was his wife, after all; of course she'd try to give him a little pep talk.

But it did make him feel better. It made him feel loads better. And he nodded before getting another kiss, just because, before, exhausted no doubt, Steph went to sleep.

She had confidence in him the entire way. That he'd get back out there. Better than ever, she frequently reminded him. And, she'd add, she was never wrong.

Not that it didn't cross her mind at times, the idea of him retiring. The man had put in more years than many and suffered the battle wounds of the best of them. It would put her at ease, in many ways, if he did.

But…

She knew he wouldn't truly be pleased with himself. And no matter how many times she insisted he was the toughest man in the world, regardless of coming back from the injury or not, mentally it was just something he was going to have to do.

"Besides," he told her more than once when he was holding their daughter, "I want Aurora to see me wrestle at least once and remember it. She deserves that, don't she?"

The man had a drive of no other. If he wanted something, he was gonna get it.

"How do you think I snagged you? Eh, princess?"

And Steph would shiver, just a bit, when he called her that in the later days, as it had faded from their typical day to day vocabulary in the past few years. A big reason became that it was what he frequently referred to their daughter as which, between the spoiling she got from her Grandpa Vince and her daddy, was more or less fitting.

The same could be said, of course, of the other two that soon followed.

And that was the final piece, honestly. The last bit of the attraction puzzle she had. It wasn't the dedication he had to his physique, the ring, or even her that brought the man closest to the her. Rather, it was watching the one he had to late night diaper changes, sitting up at night with tummy aches, searching out monsters, playing pretend, and even painting his toenails when the time was seen fit by his daughters (it frequently was).

Watching the man with their three daughters, the way he cared for and about them, blew everything else out of the water.

"Well," he mumbled to her one night when she _unabashedly_ shared this sentiment to him, "considering your father once beat you with a pipe-"

"Held it to my throat. There's a difference," she giggled.

"-I think it wouldn't be hard to impress you with my parenting skills."

"Yeah, but you do. Exceedingly well."

Grinning tiredly, he only gently stroked her head as she rested against his chest, saying nothing else.

Because what greater compliment is there than that?

* * *

 **This, given it's length, obviously references a few things (such as Steph saying Paul went to India after crushing his damn trachea in the live stream, Paul going to Taker for relationship advice was mentioned in some interview, can't remember which one, ect.) and then a lot more of my own supposition.**

 **I** **know that I've, like, bombarded you guys with posts these past few days, but I'm just really into this pairing for the moment.** **Just obsessing a tad too hard, I guess.**


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